Take Your Time
by The Red Celt
Summary: Fill for this prompt: "Shepard and Garrus share a bath together. A shore leave or their honeymoon, your choice. Would love to see back rub, sensual massage (from both of them to the other) and end with slow, sweet love-making. Other details like rose petal, bubbles, candles are depended on your preference." So, rated M. Of course. :)


"I was thinking," Shepard said, pulling on her pants and bouncing from foot to foot as she worked them up over her butt. The move made her breasts move in the most _fascinating_ way, and Garrus had to stop what he was doing to watch, something that did not escape her notice.

"Well, that must hurt," he joked, and she threw a pillow at him.

"As I was saying, I was thinking that we never get enough time to really . . . take our time, you know?"

"Not sure that I do, Jane."

Shepard, still topless, sauntered over to the other side of the bed where he was leaning over to get his boots and shoved him back onto the mattress. He propped himself up on his elbows and gave her a cock-eyed grin as she straddled his lap and leaned down to kiss him. It wasn't the usual sort of kiss she gave him, though; this was a slight, exquisitely slow brush of skin to plates, then she pulled back a fraction only to press more firmly against his mouth before parting her lips and exhaling a soft sigh. When she pulled back this time, his head craned to follow and she knew she had his attention.

"I love having you in my bed," she said, her lips drifting lazily from his mouth to his mandible, her tongue grazing a slow hot line up to the joint where it attached to his head, then underneath to the sensitive skin there. He was breathing faster and ached for a more fervent touch, but was denied. The sweet scent of her was everywhere and the heat of her bare skin radiated against his chest and lower back, where her hands were kneading lightly.

"I love the way you can't get enough of me, and the way you _fuck_ me." She growled those words through gritted teeth, her breath curling across his skin, and the sultry undertones in her voice sent shivers up his spine. He nuzzled her neck and breathed in the intoxicating scent of her and he felt his pelvic plates loosening again. They didn't have enough time for another round, though—they were both slated for the ground team on Tuchanka, and would be arriving in a few minutes. Garrus was suddenly very glad he would be in his armor, with unyielding metal between the erection he'd surely have a hard time controlling and any overly curious eyes.

"But, just once, I want to go slow, with no time limits," she whispered into his neck. "I want to spend the entire day in bed, getting to know your body." Her hands worked up his back to stroke his cowl, those long, limber fingers finding kinks he didn't even know he had and working them out with expert care. His eyes rolled back in his head as his muscles turned to jelly, and he would have agreed to anything she asked right then if only she would just keep doing that. "I want to make love to you, Garrus." The passionate conviction in her voice pulled a groan from him and he collapsed back on the bed, pulling her with him. He buried his fingers in her hair and kissed her thoroughly, running his tongue between her teeth and lips.

"You play dirty," he said between kisses, mouthing the words against her lips. "Asking me like that, you know I'll say yes."

"So say it," she breathed, and moaned softly when he grabbed a handful of her ass and squeezed.

"Yes, Jane." His hips pushed against hers, and even through the fabric of her pants she could feel the heat of his body between her legs. "Yes, I want to make love to you, yes yes yes," he crooned, punctuating each word with a kiss.

"That's more like it." She sounded like she was having a hard time forming words. "Think we have enough time for a quickie before we land?"

"Hmmm . . ." he said, making a big show of pretending to mull it over and earned a grin for his efforts. "I think we've got a few minutes." He flipped her over and yanked her pants down to her knees, and Shepard had to stifle a giggle as he hurriedly fumbled with the clasps on his own clothes. She kicked her pants off just as he fell on top of her and pushed inside, silencing her laughs and replacing them with gasping moans. They were both so worked up that it didn't take long, between her tightening muscles and his hard thrusts, before they were both breathing hard and clinging to each other. With one final, hard thrust he came inside her with a low moan and she followed soon after, arching her back and tightening her legs around his waist before going limp with a shuddering exhale.

He kissed her one last time before pulling out, and they set about getting dressed again. Tuchanka would be a lot easier to deal with now, for the both of them, but the idea of having the opportunity to love her properly, to find all the places she liked to be touched and have her do the same to him, made lovely things happen in his lower belly.

"So, when are we going to have the time to do a more . . . thorough job?" he asked, pulling the collar of his shirt into place.

"We'll be going to the Citadel in about six cycles, if I remember correctly. We could get a hotel room."

"That sounds like a plan." As they stepped into the elevator, he added, "Think we could find one with a big bathtub?"

Shepard arched her eyebrow and smiled. "I like the way you think, Vakarian." She pulled him down for another kiss before the doors opened and they had to climb back into their more professional roles. Times like this, stolen moments between the insanity that was their life together, were what they lived for. "I'll make the call as soon as we get back."

* * *

As it turned out, there was a hotel near the Presidium that advertised a hot tub in every room, so that was where Shepard made their reservations. She also made arrangements for human/turian accommodations, which usually included different pillows and toiletries as well as dual-chirality fruits, and the hotel earned a lot of points with her when the asari on the other line didn't even bat an eyelash at the request.

The day they arrived at the Citadel, Garrus could hardly keep his eyes off her. She could feel his heated gaze even when her back was turned, like he was visualizing all the things he planned to do to her later, and it was turning her on to no end. Through an unspoken agreement, they had hardly touched each other all day, and they made their way to the hotel with the tension building up into an almost tangible thing. The elevator was torturously slow and they stood on opposite sides, leaning against the paneling, eyeing each other hungrily, daring the other to give in and close the distance. But neither did.

Shepard waved the key card once, twice in front of the lock but her trembling fingers wouldn't hold still long enough for the sensor to read it. Garrus stood behind her and reached around her shoulder, running his fingers down over her arm, the space between them begging to be filled as he took her hand in his and held it still, waiting until the door clicked open. He lingered there for a long moment, his mouth hovering just over her hair, her heart speeding in her chest.

"I don't know about you," he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice, "but I want you all to myself _now_, and I don't think the hallway is the best place for it." She shook herself and led the way into the room, closing the door and cloaking the room in blue-tinted gloom. He looked around for the light switch and was just about to flip it on when she took his wrist and brought his hand to her waist.

"Leave them off." She started undoing the seals of his armor while he did the same for her, the pieces falling away to reveal more and more until they stood in nothing but their underthings—Garrus in a pair of form-fitting pants, Shepard in a tank top and panties. When he finally held her hips and pulled her in close, all the hours that stretched out before them made this room feel like a time capsule, insulated from threats of the Reapers and demands of the crew or the Council or the myriad other people constantly pulling her in a thousand different directions, and the only thing that mattered lay in the circle of his arms.

"Come on," he said, and led her into the bathroom. He started the water and Shepard lit some candles while they waited for the enormous tub to fill. It looked big enough to fit ten people, or four krogan, and took up one entire side of the bathroom. The low flickering orange light played on the walls and across the rippling water, softening the harsh edges of Garrus' plates and her own scars. The sudden quiet when he shut the faucets off buzzed in her ears, and he gestured for her to come closer. She walked slowly over to him with a little extra sway in her hips and crossed her arms over her body, grabbed the bottom of her tank top, and pulled it up over her head. Garrus' eyes stayed glued to her body as the shirt cleared her breasts, then lifted her hair as she raised her arms and let it fall to the tiled floor. That she could make such a small thing look so erotic never ceased to amaze him.

He slid her panties down her thighs to her calves, his hands and mouth following them as he rubbed and nipped at her skin. He studiously avoided her groin altogether, instead teasing his tongue along the edges of her hip bones and gently kneading the backs of her thighs. She tilted her head back, her mouth open slightly, and her fingers found that spot under his fringe that caused him to make the most _delicious_ sounds. Tonight was no exception as he tensed and moaned into her skin, his plates hot, his blood on fire with need for her.

She gently extricated herself from his grasp and stepped into the water. It was a little hotter than she usually liked, but that was all right—they were going to be in for a while. She sat back and closed her eyes, the steam and heat working into her bones and loosening the tension that had been riding there ever since she woke up in the med bay, her head swimming with alien visions so long ago. Ripples lapped at her as Garrus got in and sat across from her, and the water rose nearly to the lip of the tub.

Shepard reached down, lifted his foot into her lap, and pushed her thumbs into the spot between his toes where he tended to get especially achy after a long day on his feet. He tilted his head back until his fringe scraped the tiles and sighed.

"Damn, that feels good." When Shepard had first done this, it hadn't taken more than a few minutes to reduce him to a boneless heap. He'd never had a massage before, and as soon as she'd found out the first thing she did was spend twenty minutes on his feet and hands alone. It was amazing how much a foot massage could change one's outlook on life, he thought.

Now, her fingers moved in figure eight patterns, then circles, then firm strokes up and down the spaces between his plates. She moved up to his thighs and parted his knees so she could kneel between his legs. He watched her through half-lidded eyes as she leaned in to kiss along the edge of his cowl, her hands below the water pressing into the hollows of his hips just below his waist. The pressure there sent radiating waves of pleasure straight to his groin and he gasped in surprise. Shepard froze, and she looked up at him.

"You all right?" she asked. Garrus nodded and cupped her cheek, bringing her in for a kiss.

"Oh, yeah." He put his hand over hers and pushed down into his hips. "Keep doing that." She obliged him and his mandibles fluttered slightly as he let out a long breath.

"You like this?" She hadn't known about this spot and, judging from his reaction, he hadn't either. She pushed her knuckles into his skin and his legs wrapped around her, the muscles of his inner thighs quivering.

"It's so . . . _mmph_ . . . I don't know what you're doing, but don't stop." He threaded his fingers in her hair with one hand and gripped her shoulder with the other. She could feel the blunted tips of his talons dimpling her skin; he'd started filing them down right after accidentally scratching her pretty badly the first time they'd been together. He'd been so apologetic that it would have been funny if he wasn't so obviously worried about her—it had never occurred to him for some reason that her skin was that fragile. Since then, he kept them short and rounded at the ends . . . a fact she wanted to exploit tonight.

His member, dark blue and fully erect, slid out and she moved a little closer until she could feel it against her stomach. She wrapped both hands around him and squeezed lightly, drawing a hitching moan from him. Heat pooled between her legs at the sight of him so completely at her mercy and she rubbed her thighs together to alleviate the pressure that was beginning to build up there. Garrus suddenly grabbed her waist and hauled her up into his lap, and water sloshed over the side of the tub, drenching two of the candles and darkening the room even further.

Shepard rolled her hips against him and he licked her neck in response. As he ran his tongue over the beaded water on her skin, he dragged his hands down her sides to her waist. He purred in her ear, a low rumbling that vibrated through her whole body, and she shivered. His mandible flicked against her neck as his fingers quested lower to the juncture of her thighs and stroked lightly, gently rolling her lower lips between his thumb and forefinger.

"Do you want this, Jane?" he murmured and she nodded, her hair tickling his face as it moved. "How do you want me to touch you? Tell me."

"I . . . I want—" she cut off as he pushed a little further and rubbed her in long, sure strokes.

"Tell me," he whispered, his breath hot in her ear, and she forced the words out past the pulse beating hard in her throat. "I want to hear you say it."

"I want you inside me when you rub my clit. Please, Garrus, I need you to touch me." Her words made him go tense all over and his hips bucked up into hers. He helped her get turned around so she had her calves braced on his spurs, her legs open wide. She held him in position and lowered herself onto him, his long hard length sinking deep into her body.

"Oh, god," she breathed and tilted her head back to kiss his mandible and suck on the end. She started to rock against him, but he grabbed her hips and held her still.

"Not yet." He kept a firm grip on her hip with one hand while the other slipped under the water and between her legs. Her thighs tensed and he pushed them open wider as he circled her swollen bud and she tightened erratically on him, unmoving inside her. The need to feel him move was driving her crazy and she groaned in frustration even as the pleasure built up from his maddeningly slow ministrations. His pace quickened just a fraction, but even that small change was enough to bring her close to the edge and she dug her fingers into his forearm.

"Garrus, please just . . ." She tried again to move, but he wrapped his arm around her stomach and pulled her back so she didn't have any leverage. Control wasn't something she gave up lightly, but she found that she _really_ liked letting him drive regardless of how completely frustrating it was, caught in the vice grip of his arms. His own breathing was harsh and fast as he ran the flat of his tongue across her jawline, and when her walls clamped down on him hard he moaned in her ear and finally started to move. His hips ground up into hers and she gave a full-throated cry that reverberated off the walls and nearly sent him over the edge right then and there. His fingers, still working her clit, lost their rhythm as he released her hips and palmed her throat, his blunted talons pressing lightly against her jaw, and she used her freedom to move against him with the flexibility of an asari stripper. The way the lower half of her stretched and flexed and undulated in his lap never failed to amaze, and Garrus thrust harder into her tight, smooth body.

"Are you close?" he asked, his voice flanging wildly.

"Yes . . ."

"Come for me, Jane, I want to feel it." As though she'd been waiting for his permission, her whole body went rigid for a split second before the orgasm crashed over her and she came with a gasping wail. He followed soon after, spilling inside her, his moans muffled against her shoulder.

Garrus let her legs relax and she lay boneless against him, her chest heaving, her breasts rising out of the now lukewarm water before sinking back down with every breath. His hands grazed over her, occasionally pausing to concentrate on the taut lines of her neck or the creases at the tops of her thighs. She sighed happily and touched his mandible, turned his face to hers, and kissed him.

"Mmmm . . . you're so soft all over," he said, and couldn't catch himself before adding," and I'm so—"

"—not?" she supplied, and immediately wished she could take it back when she felt his doubt in the set of his shoulders, and the way his breathing changed just a fraction. She sat up and turned around to get a good look at his face. "You know I don't mind, Garrus."

"Yeah, I know." The ability to practically read his mind in battle carried over here, though, and she heard all the words he didn't say. They'd just started their relationship when she turned herself in to the Alliance and couldn't talk to him for six months—six months of wondering, of inner whisperings telling him he wasn't what she wanted, that she'd eventually find someone of her own species to settle down with. Their lives had been thrown into turmoil, their home worlds in ruins, and they had to be able to depend on each other now more than ever. Shepard stood up, the water sheeting off her body, and beckoned to him.

"What do you say we take this to the bedroom? There's something I have to show you."

After toweling off, she took up one of the candles and put it on the nightstand, then had him sit on the bed up against the headboard. She went over to her overnight bag and rummaged around in it, and she couldn't help but give him a bit of a show as she bent over. He made a low appreciative rumble and she smiled as her fingers found what she'd been looking for and she carried it back to the bed.

"A datapad?"

"Yeah," she said. "The Alliance wouldn't let me have an internet connection, but they did allow me this." She handed it to him and he turned it on, scanning the contents. "Those are all the letters I wrote you while I was grounded. Six months' worth."

He flipped slowly through the entries, all headed with 'Dear Garrus.' It looked like she 'd been using them as a diary of sorts, telling him everything that was happening. There was one almost every day, sometimes short, some of them going on for pages. She'd said that she'd thought about him a lot, but he didn't know at the time just how true that was.

"I wasn't sure whether or not to give them to you," she said, a little nervously.

"I'm glad you did," he said, putting the datapad aside for the time being and tugging on her hand. She went willingly, and straddled his hips. Their relationship was still so new and improbable to him, but at least now he knew that she felt the same way about him as he did about her—she permeated his thoughts, his dreams; he carried her scent around with him everywhere and it smelled like home. His heart swelled with love for her, and he intended to spend the rest of his life making sure she knew it.

"That's not all," she said, pulling his arms around her waist and leaning in for a kiss.

"Oh, really?" His mouth was like brushed leather against her lips, and she sighed.

"Yeah." She stroked the length of his fringe, lingering at the tips before playing along the underside to the back of his neck. "I love you, Garrus, more than I can ever say." It was the first time she'd said those words, and the significance was not lost on him. He tightened his hold on her and she gasped as her breasts rubbed against his plates. He ran his tongue out and tasted her skin, the clean and fresh scent of her, like rain.

"Then show me," he murmured, and her fingers skated down his chest and between his legs, where she lined him up with her entrance and took him inside her again. She set a languorous pace and took his face in her hands, feeling the way his skin gave just the tiniest bit under her touch, memorizing his features like they were the only thing she ever wanted to remember. And in that moment, they were. She tried with the brush of her body against his, the tilt of her hips as she rode him, and her caresses to tell him just how much she loved him, had always loved him in her own way. That there was no one else she trusted more at her back or to stand by her side, to be the strength that helped her do what had to be done, to carry around a piece of her heart.

Her body gleamed with sweat and not-yet-dried bathwater, soft and slick to his hardened roughness, and while the contrast seemed stark at first, they fit together. More than physically, although that was amazing as well; they had found the other half of themselves in a different species from halfway across the galaxy, against all odds, and neither could imagine the rest of their lives without that connection holding them together.

Garrus moaned and tightened his hold on her, searching her face desperately, as if he feared she would disappear. She pressed her forehead to his, her green eyes meeting his deep blue ones, and he could almost hear her voice in his head, _I'm here, I'm not leaving you._ The pleasure built between them slowly, heart-rendingly full of everything they had no words for but knew anyway, until it crested full and complete and shattered around them, bringing down the walls around them and between them until they merged into one, open and full of the scent and feel of the other, as the world broke apart and all that mattered was right here.

Afterward, trembling in the cooling air, they held onto each other. Neither of them could bear to say what they were thinking—that this mission might be their last, that one or both of them might not make it out alive. He drank in the heaviness of her body against his, and she tried to mold herself to him as completely as she could manage, telling him _It'll be all right, as long as you make it,_ knowing that he was saying the same thing.

A little shifting was all it took to lay her down and curl up beside her, to twine his limbs with hers and move her damp hair out of her face as she looked sleepily up at him. He never thought he could feel this way about anything, and the immensity of that emotion overwhelmed him, frightened and exhilarated him. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, to ask her to be with him for the rest of their lives no matter how short they might be, but all that was for another time. Right now, all he could do was gently kiss her forehead and tell her what he'd known to be true all along.

"I love you, too."


End file.
